


A Look Inside

by ReaperStygian



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Anxiety, Caring, Cutting, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Sad, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 11:13:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8203885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReaperStygian/pseuds/ReaperStygian
Summary: Morty has always been told many things about himself, not very nice things. Like how he was stupid, and had mental problems, and was more or less useless. Outwardly, Morty yelled back about these things, denying them. But on the inside.. Morty agreed.





	

At first, Morty didn't achieve much.

He used scissors, opening them out and swiping the sharp edge down his skin, but he was too much of a wimp to push hard enough for much. Rarely he was able to bleed a few drops, but it was never enough. Red lines that faded didn't serve the purpose he wanted it to serve, it didn't show the message. Morty wanted his outside to reflect the inside- scarred, bloody, and fucked up after all, so he needed to try harder.

But no matter what he thought to himself Morty never managed to make himself pressed hard enough with the scissors, or pick up the knife.

It wasn't that he was scared, it was that... Well, he was scared. Morty wasn't good at pain, but the pain wasn't the important part here. He wanted to be alive, to show the mark on his skin that he was different, not like everyone else, not sheep like Rick always said he was. But if he was too much of a sheep to make those marks, then maybe Rick was right?

Of course he was right though. Morty already knew that. Rick was right about everything, he was smart, a genius. Morty was just his shield. He didn't mean anything to Rick, and Rick had made that clear whenever Morty ever tried to bring it up. Rick's didn't care about Morty's. Everyone knew that- even a stupid Morty like him.

No one cared about Morty's after all.

And no one ever would.

Currently Morty was in the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror and looking at his reflection. He looked the same as he always did- pale, skinny. Brown hair. Dark eyes. A wimp. One of his hands was held tightly to his side and in the other he held scissors, opened and shiny. Carefully he lifted up his shirt with the empty hand, looking down at his smooth stomach. There were a few bruises from when he went out with Rick and got beat up, but other then that there was nothing. Lifting his shirt a bit more though revealed his secret. 

A whole bunch of skinny red lines sliced across his body. On one spot there was a bubbly area where he had rubbed it raw by accident. Some of the scabs were already falling off, and Morty couldn't very well have that could he? Pulling the scissor's up he put it by his skin, pushed down, and pulled it across. 

Because I'm a wimp.

One line. The skin was split slightly.

Because I'm just a Morty.

Two lines. The first line had a few dots of blood. The second wasn't deep, just a scratch- he had to try harder.

Because.. Because RICK...

Three lines. The last one stung. It bleed a little right away, and Morty could tell this one would last a bit longer. After looking at the three new cuts for a moment Morty let his shirt fall as he put the scissor's aside. "M-MORTY!" Morty jumped a bit, looking at the door in surprise. He recognized the voice as Rick's. "H-URG-urry up in there!"

"Almost d-done Rick!" Morty shouted back quickly. He flushed the toilet to make it seem like he had gone and then turned on the sink and wet his hands. Turning off the sink he opened the door, slipping past Rick as he moved into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. After a moment of hesitation Morty sighed and went up to his room, falling onto his bed with a small sound. 

His chest burned, just a little. It would get itchy later, it always did. And when the scabs started to get loose Morty would forget and pick them off early, making them bleed a little more. He liked to smear the little bits of blood around his chest when that happened. It looked like it was new, and he was bleeding from something new when he did that. 

Morty knew he was fucked up. He had heard about all this kind of stuff in school, but he had never really expected it to ever bother him. He had read stories about people who thought bad things about themselves, but the difference was the things those people thought weren't true. Everything Morty thought about himself was true. He knew it was. Rick said so, his family said so- even his teachers said so.

Morty was a burden. He shouldn't even be alive, everyone would be much better off if he wasn't alive, if he just like, killed himself or something. Suicide wasn't something Morty hadn't thought about before. Rick would be happier, and if he needed a Morty to be his shield, he had that free Morty coupon still. Morty knew he had grabbed it, even if in front of him Rick had denied it. Rick must have taken if for a reason. He must have decided his Morty wasn't good enough.

Morty hadn't noticed he was crying until now. Sitting up he touched his face slightly- just like he thought, tears. His breathing grew more ragged and hard and he pulled his knees up to his chest to bury his face into as he sobbed as quietly as possible. His head was started to pound, the idea of killing himself, making it more easy for everyone else seeming smarter and smarter as he thought about it.

Summer would be better. His parents would be better. Most importantly, Rick, his grandfather and best friend would be better. So why not?

It wouldn't be hard. Take a whole bunch of pills, maybe steal some alcohol from Rick to make it go quicker. Why not?

Why not? Why not? Why not?

He would do it later that night.

~

Later that night came faster then Morty would have thought after an awkward family dinner with Rick staring at him. Rick must know something's up, Morty thought quietly to himself. He must know something, I must be acting different, because he kept sending me looks all throughout dinner.

Luckily Rick didn't ask him something though because Morty wasn't sure how well he would hold up under Rick's dark sure of himself eyes. Once dinner was over Morty retreated to his room and pulled out some paper and his favorite pen- you're suppose to leave a note or something, aren't you? But after staring at the paper for a while Morty discovered he had no idea what to put down, so with a noise of frustration he threw both the paper and the pen away.

Pointless. A burden.

Morty waited until everyone was asleep, or else he assumed they would be, before he went downstairs. Going into the medicine drawer he pulled out a few bottles of random pills, not knowing what would work and what wouldn't. After grabbing some alcohol from Rick's secret stash he went back to his room.

Morty tried to keep himself distant, uncaring, unfeeling as he pulled some pills from each bottle into a pile. He opened the alcohol and toke a deep drink before pausing to gag and shudder. Disgusting. Carefully Morty started to work himself through the pill pile, taking a few sips from the bottle in his hand as he did so. It was hard work. Morty's head pounded and his tongue felt thick and heavy. By the time he was done he fell, spilling the rest of the bottle onto himself. His eyes were half closed already- was it working?

Everything felt far away.. Dark.. Calm, and peaceful.. It hurt, but the alcohol made Morty apathetic, uncaring. 

It was time to die. Morty didn't see the door open as everything turned black.

~

Rick could tell something was off with Morty at dinner. He was acting more quiet and twitchy then normal. Thinking it was just nerves or something Rick had brushed it off- he shouldn't have.

Later that night Rick had decided to drag Morty off to some new dimension he had found to try to cheer his awkward grandson up again, since it normally seemed to do the trick and he needed some rare gems from that dimension anyways. As he took a sip from the small drink he carried everywhere with him Rick went to Morty's bedroom. Once there he opened the door- not bothering to knock, since he is Rick -only for the smell of alcohol and piss to reach his nose.

Rick had seen this more then enough to mistake it for anything else. With a curse he shoved his flask back into his pocket, hurrying to Morty's side and kneeling by him, flipping him over and feeling for a pulse. He found one, weak but there, to his relief. He didn't have much time though if he wanted to save his grandson. Pulling him up into his arms Rick carried him to the bathroom, ignoring the fact Morty was wet with alcohol and his own urine. Once in the bathroom he dropped him gently into the tub and hurried off to grab what he needed. 

In the garage Rick wasted no time throwing open drawers as he looked around for what he needed. Fear rushed through him- he couldn't loose Morty, Morty was the only one he had left. Rick tried not to feel, he didn't have time, he had to step back from this and be logical- but it was hard this time. Finding what he needed Rick rushed back upstairs, a needle held tightly in his hand. It was something new the scientist had been cooking up- it was suppose to work for poisons, it would clean them from you, but hopefully it would work for this to.. If not- no, Rick didn't want to think about that. 

Once by the tub Rick plunged to sharp needle into Morty's neck, inserting the liquid before pulling the needle out and carelessly tossing it aside. After around thirty seconds of worried silence, color started to return to Morty's face and after checking his pulse was picking up to normal speeds. Relaxing, Rick sighed in relief. Thank whatever deity existed. Morty would be fine. 

Standing up Rick picked Morty up again before bringing him to Rick's own room and dropping him gently onto the bed. Pulling off his labcoat Rick pulled a clean one on, before heading off to Morty's room to get him a change of clothes as well. His hands wouldn't stop shaking, and fear still pounded through him despite the danger being over (for now.) 

 

Why would Morty try to commit suicide? Was it Rick's fault? And... what now?

 

~

 

When Morty woke up it didn't take him long to figure out what had happened. Even someone like him could see it easily. Someone like him- (stupiduselessuglyshouldhavediedsoPOINTLESS) -someone who should be dead right now. But wasn't. Because of Rick. Do his parents know yet? As that thought occurred to Morty he quickly scrambled off the bed, freaking out as his breathing started to get heavy. He paced, wringing his hands, tears filling his eyes. Suddenly the door opened, and jumping, Morty turned to face the entry. 

 

It was Rick. They stared at each other for a long moment. "Did you them?" Morty finally managed to force out. Rick shook his head no, and Morty fell to his knees a small sob of relief escaping him. Then again, if anyone knew how he felt it would be Rick, wouldn't it?

 

"Morty," Rick called out. When Morty didn't answer, he tried again. "M-Morty, listen up. I got you some n-new- BLEWH -clothes Morty. See? Here you go Morty, g-get changed I'll look away." Rick tossed Morty the change of clothes before turning away from the younger male. Morty toke a moment to breath and calm down- they didn't know they didn't know it was okay -before he did as Rick said and got changed. Once he was done Rick spun to face him, and Morty flinched backwards from the sudden movement wrapping his arms around his chest as if to protect himself.

 

More silence.

 

"Sit d-down."

 

Morty sat.

 

Silence. 

 

The quiet was broken when Rick went into a coughing fit. After calming down, he sat up straight and finally went to start the much needed conversation. Seeing this, Morty straightened up more, prepared to be yelled at, ranted at, or anything really. "It's okaaay," Rick slurred slightly. "I forgive y- BLECH -you Morty."

 

Morty... hadn't expected that. Covering his face, tears filled his eyes and slid down his cheeks. It hurt too much, everything hurt, he was useless anyways. Why did Rick save him? He should have just let Morty die, it would have been so much easier. Why? "W-why did you s-save me?" Morty sobbed out, forcing it through his sobs. There was a moment where Rick sighed, and then his hand was in his hair, ruffling it.

 

"Look, kid," Rick started off, crossing his arms. "I-it may not seem like it, b- BELCH -but I was scared Morty. Y-you shouldn't die. Rick and Morty for a thousand years, r-remember? B-b- BLECH -besides. I need y-you on my jobs! You're family M-Morty.. And I won't tell.. B- BLECH -but I'm going to be k-keeping a very close eyes on you, and g-getting you help! I- BLECH -if it happens again, I will tell!"

 

Morty nodded madly, wiping tears and snots off his face. Help? He didn't need help, but if that's what it toke he would listen. Rick didn't know about the cutting but Morty was pretty sure he would have guessed or figured it out by now, so he would have to stop that as well even though it would be hard. Wait..

 

"Y-you need me on your j-jobs?" Morty stuttered, his eyes wide and his brown hair messy. Rick nodded, eyeing him as though it was obvious. Blushing, Morty dunked his head.

 

He would try.

As long as Rick needed him, he would try.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my story, I hope you enjoyed it! Please consider leaving a kudos/comment, or bookmarking my story. I don't always reply to comments but if you want to learn more about my plans for my stories, you can find me at my Tumblr (Reaper8439979). If whatever you're curious about isn't already there, feel free to send in an ask. :3


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